


child of rage (set the world aflame)

by Mxrxuders



Series: Oh Brother O’ Mine [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Neglect, Sirius Black Deserves Better, Sirius Black POV, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mxrxuders/pseuds/Mxrxuders
Summary: Sirius Black has never been afraid of everything in his life; except his father.-
Relationships: Regulus Black & Sirius Black
Series: Oh Brother O’ Mine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820371
Kudos: 38





	child of rage (set the world aflame)

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing in this story besides the plot?? Everything else belongs to JK Rowling

  
“ _He is strong but he is a child_

_he is a child_

_he is a child_

_take the world_

_off his shoulders_

_children should not have to fight to be young.”_

_m.h.w // yuki, age thirteen._

~~~

  
age:9

Shadows of flames danced across the room, lighting up the otherwise dark area. Uncle Alphard sat in the green embroidered armchair to the left of the two children.

Every two years the man would come back from his long-term explorations at random and swoop up his nephews from their homes to take them to his cabin on the coast of Normandy. 

This year Alphard had arrived right before Yule, and so the boys only had three days with their favourite relative before they were forced to return to London.

Regulus was cuddled up to his older brother, face alight with childish wonder paired with two drooping eyes. His small hand clutched the duvet as he listened to his uncle tell a tale.

“The prince felt a deep sense of fear settle in him, for the dragon was of tremendous height and width; and the prince knew he was no match for the beast's indefinite strength.”

Sirius himself was on his side, watching the candle that lay on his bedside table shed its skin. He had heard this story a million times already, and if it wasn't for Regulus, he surely would’ve requested another.

” Sirius isn’t scared of anything!” Regulus’s high voice peeped, forever wanting to brag about his elder brother.

“Everyone is scared of something, Regulus.”

“Well i’m not.” Sirius squinted.

Uncle Alphard smiled, his lithe limbs retreating as he leaned forward with glimmering eyes.

” Is that right, Sirius”

  
Turning forward with a frown — Sirius made contact with his uncle's eyes before answering indignantly; as if to ask why his bravery needed questioning.

” Only babies get scared.”

Uncle Alphard grinned.

” Everybody has something to fear, even me! Have you never seen a spider? Dreadful creatures, no small living thing needs that many legs.”

The little boys frown deepened; kicking at the covers before sitting up and straightening.

  
” Well, not me. I’m not scared of anything” But even as he says it, a dull feeling settles in his stomach and memories shine to view.

  
” Not even spiders?” Uncle Alphard sang.

Sirius thinks of his father's firm hand and the drab (almost sinister) atmosphere of his office; of the jagged wooden cane, and the clutch of his father's ebony wand. Sirius thinks of pain and scars and terror — of basements and blood and bruises.

” Not even spiders.”

* * *

age:11

Platform 9 and 3/4 is crowded with wizards and witches of all types, and maybe that’s why Orion Black is glaring and frowning at the occasional adult that makes their way past.

_Sirius wouldn’t put it past his father to smell a mudblood tens of feet away_.

A pale hand is clutched onto his shoulder, its grip so hard and strong that Sirius knows a bruise will appear in its place within the next hour.

” You will do well in your studies, you will stay out of the trouble and you will act like the heir you are. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father.”

” You may go.”

The tall boy spares a short goodbye glance towards a sad-looking Regulus Black, before cutting across the platform and onto the train.

Once on the caravan and seated, he meets a wide-eyed and wild haired boy with miraculous thoughts and a short frame. The two connect and any worrying thoughts Sirius may have had fly straight out the window.

James Potter is a friendly character, he tells funny jokes and maybe he is loud; but Sirius has lived through silence, been conditioned to it — because children of The Black Family are ‘to be seen and not heard,’ and so a little noise is more than welcome.

And if James notices Sirius’s silence and the way he stiffens when parents are brought up into the conversation, he doesn’t say a thing.

At his sorting, he sits and expects the hat to immediately shout ‘Slytherin,’ it’s the home of his ancestors — which means it’s the house he belongs. 

But the Sorting hat dwells deep in the young boy and finds a soul that beats _myfriendsmyfamily_ — a heart that yearns for happiness and love and everything he’s been deprived of all these years. The hat knows that Sirius Black is destined for one house and one house only, and so when it makes its call; there’s no doubt it’s the right one.

Sirius goes ridged in the chair and the entire hall is silent because the heir to the ‘Most Ancient and Noble House of Black,’ cannot be a Gryffindor. It’s unnatural and the two don’t mix; it’s like oil and water — like a fire with no oxygen.

McGonagall gently pushes Sirius off the seat (‘off you go, Mr Black.’) He forces himself to move, avoiding the betrayed eyes of the green house and makes his way to the table decked in red.

As he sits _(at the edge of the table, the furthest away from anyone else)_ all he can think about his father's cold eyes and the pain he knows will come.

Sirius closes his eyes so hard that when he opens them the world around him is just an array of colours; ruby red turns to emerald green, and he allows himself to imagine that everything is okay, and that the table and people around him aren't one of a lion — but of a snake.

* * *

age:12

All four boys are sat cross-legged before their head of house, Minerva McGonagall is a tall and stern woman and Sirius has never seen her more angry.

” Utterly despicable.” Her mouth is etched into a deep frown and her eyebrows are stitched together.

” Conducting a riot! In the great hall! And at breakfast! There is no excuse for such a horrendous act-“

James squawks at that, after all the riot wouldn’t have started if Evan Rosier hadn't made such a despicable remark.

  
“But Professor- “  


” Enough, Mr. Potter! You will be given a month's worth of detention and 150 points will be taken from Gryffindor! Letters will be sent home to your parents and the next time something like this happens you will all be facing suspension!”

Professor McGonagall is practically breathing fire at his point, Sirius knows that this is the worst thing he could’ve done given the right rope he is already w alking around his family.

His father has made it clear that the next time a letter was sent home, the punishment would be severe. Sirius gulps, mouth dry and throat itchy. He can still recall the weight and touch of the cane marking his back, can remember the way blood spurted from previous beatings and the way his rear and sides were still littered with scabs and scars.

” This is a disgrace towards your house, and I hope you take your actions into consideration. You may leave.”

Once they’ve left the office and walked a far distance away, James bursts into laughter.

” Did you see Snivellus’s face after? He’ll have those bruises forever.”

“I don’t know, James — We’re in big trouble” Remus shuffles, fiddling with a tussle on his robe.

James scoffs, a grin still painted wide on his face.

  
” Y-You’re not scared? They’re owling our parents!” Peter squeaks. 

The bespectacled boy flings his arm around Sirius’s shoulders; who is staring off into the distance, panicked and silent.

“Mum will be mad, but Dad will probably congratulate me for punching a Carrow in the face.”

Sirius wishes he could say the same.

* * *

age:15

Grimmauld Place is always cold, even during the summer when the sun comes out and sets its light upon everything — Grinmauld Place is always cold. But it’s even colder now.

Sirius’s mother had been the one to come to the headmasters office and pick up her way-warding son, Walburga Black had been to listen to Dumbledore when he spoke of Sirius’s violent act and the suspension that had been acted upon him.

Sirius knew why, and when he arrived and came whisking out from the floo and spotted his father's furious face — he knew he was correct.

  
” Follow me.”

The tall dark-haired boy takes after his father's striding footsteps, only faltering slightly when he makes his way into the dim office.

An empty case of whiskey sat on the cabinet on the right side of the room, Sirius nearly winced knowing that punishments were ten times worse if his father had been drinking.

The walls are pained a dingy green, with a giant version of the house logo and motto printed upon it. A desk rests in the middle of the room, Sirius watches as his father opens a draw and pulls out a long spiked dark whittled cane. Orion then removes his wand out from the holster on his left arm, before placing it down next to the cane. 

  
” Choose.”

Sirius tensed.

  
” Quickly.”

Tears threatened to well in Sirius eyes, but he stopped them from going any further; Blacks did not cry, and crying during punishments did not earn him any sympathy, in-fact it earned him the opposite instead.

  
” The cane,” he whispered.

Orion Black smiled a smile that twisted into something not quite right. Sirius’s heart shook with agony and terror. His back was still painted with scars and his ribs were still healing.

“Which means we’ll go with the wand, take off your shirt and bend.”

* * *

age:15

Dinner in the Black Family household was a quiet event with an enormous amount of strict rules. Rule number one was no talking back, and Sirius was fairly sure he was about to break that one.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you know,” Orion takes a swig from his tumbler of whiskey

” Consorting with mudbloods and half breeds, someone of your social status should know better.”

Clenching his teeth, Sirius willed himself into keeping his mouth shut.

“The blood traitors are even worse. You hang around filth like the Potters and wonde-“

” Shutup.” The words came tumbling out before he could stop them.

“Oh?” Orion lowered the glass down, pushing his chair back and standing up before making his way to where his eldest child sat and leaning over him.

  
” He speaks? I was wondering where that Gryffindor tongue of yours was? Thought I’d beat it out.”

Sirius could smell the stench of alcohol from his seat, and he slowly lifted his head up before rising onto his feet.

Men in the Black Family were always very tall, Orion Black was no different. Sirius had recently hit another growth spurt, but even that didn’t give him an advantage.

“Of course that would’ve been preferred- 

“I said shut up.”

Anger welled in Sirius’s stomach. He could feel his throat contracting and his entire body felt like it has just been put aflame.

Orion kept a mask of indifference, but Sirius could see the same dark anger storming inside his eyes (ones he shared). 

“We were too soft on you, I told your mother you would grow up like this. Spoiled and Rotten. I should’ve raised you- “  


” You didn’t raise me at all!” And like a broken dam, all the rage at his father Sirius had left locked inside him came pouring out.

” I gave you everything- “  


” You gave me nothing but pain and hatred! You’re a sorry excuse for a a parent and an even worse- “His words had been interrupted by his father's sudden throw of a fist.

  
His chin was then gripped and Sirius was forced to meet the cold, manic eyes of Orion Black.

  
“You are an ungrateful- “Sirius shoved back against him, then turned and dashed his way towards the door. 

  
He’d almost made it before a spell collided with his rear; and from then all Sirius felt was white-hot agony.

It seemed like burning knives and red-hot flames were being pressed into his skin, burying their way in and making homes in his frame. His whole body strummed with hurt and fire, his skull seemed like it was being split open and the strain was so unbearable Sirius wished he could just die — until finally, everything went cloudy and Sirius lost consciousness.

  
~~

  
When, Sirius woke up the first thing he noticed was the wet sickly smelling liquid surrounding his head. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying in a puddle of his own vomit.

The dining room was quiet and dark, ‘they left me here,’ he thought, they really don’t care’. Sirius knew he shouldn’t feel upset, he’d become well accustomed to being ignored and abandoned in this house — and yet he couldn’t help the tears and the sorrow that welled inside him.

Pushing himself up, he used the door frame to stable his body before looking around. Vomit coated the floor and most of his robes, the table had long since been cleared; kitchen dark and cold.

He turned slowly, making his way to and up the grand staircase and into his room only to discover it had been destroyed; belongings strewn all over the place and old cloaks torn and ripped.

Sirius bent, picking up the shattered picture of him and James during their first year. He gulped and hoped that James had forgiven him — because if not, he’d find himself either dead or homeless.

Grabbing his chest, he picked up one of two items he knew were in his name, _(lest his father try anything)_ and stashed them in his trunk.

Sirius made it about a third back down the staircase before he heard a creak sound from behind him.

“You’re leaving.” 

Regulus stood at the top of the stairs. He was clad in Slytherin green pyjamas, and stitched on the front was their house logo — another reminder that Sirius had failed.

  
“Come with me.”

Regulus smiled a soft smile that made a minor part of something inside Sirius break; Regulus hadn’t smiled at him like that for five years. (This would be the last calm exchange the black brothers would have with each other until the youngest’s death) 

“You know I can’t.”

Sirius scoffs, Regulus was choosing to stay of his accord; too soft to disobey and find his own mind — a follower inside and out.

  
He made his way further down to the door, twisting the doorknob and prepared to take a step outside; he chanced a look back behind him, expecting to see his younger brother still perched on the stairs, and instead was met with empty air.

The breeze against his aching skin was the first thing Sirius noticed when he stepped outside; dread was second.

He glanced back at the entrance. This house had given him nothing but fear and pain. Sirius had spent all his life being scared of his father, of disobeying, of being a child. He’d never have to be afraid again.

  
And with a final step, the door shut and Sirius Black was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review, or a kudos!


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